


I Just Wanna Testify

by thebrightestbird



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Glam Rock RPF, Queen (Band), T. Rex (Band)
Genre: Been listening to T. Rex, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, So I wrote a short and sweet fic, and Roger appeared on Marc's show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrightestbird/pseuds/thebrightestbird
Summary: "Well, if it isn't the sweet and lovely Roger Taylor."Before Roger can look up to see who's speaking, his lap becomes swiftly occupied and his face is bombarded by a mass of curls. He huffs quickly to remedy the ticklish sensation. Whoever is in his lap luckily swivels to look at him and saves him from a sneezing fit.Despite their proximity, Roger still squints to identify the smirking face. "Marc?"
Relationships: Marc Bolan/Roger Taylor (Queen)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	I Just Wanna Testify

"Well, if it isn't the sweet and lovely Roger Taylor."

Before Roger can look up to see who's speaking, his lap becomes swiftly occupied and his face is bombarded by a mass of curls. He huffs quickly to remedy the ticklish sensation. Whoever is in his lap luckily swivels to look at him and saves him from a sneezing fit.

Despite their proximity, Roger still squints to identify the smirking face. "Marc?"

Roger gets a wink in confirmation.

"Give a bloke some warning before collapsing on him," Roger scowls.

"Oh, but I just had to take advantage of this rare sight of a Roger Taylor with an empty lap." Marc takes a sip of his drink. After unnecessarily licking his lips, his unbearable smirk returns.

"Plenty of seating elsewhere," Roger counters, although that's not entirely true. The party is in a well-appointed but overcrowded hotel suite.

"None so inviting," Marc lifts an eyebrow suggestively.

"I've done nothing but grumble about it," Roger rolls his eyes. "Hardly inviting." He takes a sip of his own drink. "In fact, you need to get off me. You'll scare off the birds."

"Oh, please," Marc rolls his eyes as well. "If you were really looking, you'd already have that redhead or that leggy blonde or BOTH sat here whispering sweet nothings in your ears."

Roger swallows hard and looks away.

Marc pulls a lock of blond hair that's caught under his collar and fiddles with it. "How are you, Rog?" he asks as quietly and intimately as he can in the bustling room.

"Perfect," Roger automatically answers. "Things are really starting to take off for us."

"Us" is Queen, of course. Marc knows all the industry talk, knows that Roger's not being dishonest. After their last album, _Sheer Heart Attack_ , Queen is really going places. "I asked how _you_ are doing," he clarifies.

That earns Marc a long, deep sigh from the drummer. "This is what I want," Roger waves a hand at their surroundings — the velvet-covered furniture, the top-shelf liquor, the beautiful people. "Or so I thought."

Marc tries to parse out all the levels of meaning there could be lying within such simple phrases. "The trappings of fame are already getting to you?" He doesn't want to be unkind, but he can't help but audibly scoff at the notion. "This is _nothing_. Trust me, you've just begun."

"Yes, and what does that say about how well I'll handle the full brunt of it all when just this much luxury and pomp makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong."

"Doing what wrong? Your life? Your music?" Marc brings his hands up to squeeze Roger's shoulders. "What's an artist like you to do? Marry a mate's sister and work yourself to death in an office?"

"I'm completely capable of settling down," Roger weakly responds.

"I'm not dismissing the idea of you being a family man, Rog. I'm dismissing the idea of you being a normal one."

Roger scrunches his face, offended.

"We're artists, but not the starving kind. We're only meant to get better and bolder." Marc waves his hand around as Roger did before. "And that means success and all the rest." Marc cuddles up more, resting his head against the other man. "So, buy me another drink and enjoy it while it lasts."

"You're the one who's actually charted in America. Buy yourself another drink," Roger laughs, then scowls. "Wait, the drinks are free here."

Marc giggles in delight. "Well, I expect some compensation for that therapy session."

Roger smiles openly. "Thank you, Marc. You didn't have to, really."

"I'm here for you, Rog. Whether you just want to testify or maybe do a little something more physical." Marc shimmies in Roger's lap and shakes his head. The curls brush Roger's nose.

He sneezes.

"Eww, Roger!"

"That was your fault! You curly-haired guitarists are a nuisance."

"Oh, does Brian often sit in your lap too? I knew it. He's stolen your heart."

Roger snorts at the image of his giant bandmate sitting where the significantly shorter T. Rex musician is sat. "I'm afraid there's only room for a little Marc in my heart — and lap."

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> For the random few who read this, I hope it was a sweet bit of fun.


End file.
